


Once Upon a December

by megaanimeweeb



Series: Dream SMP Fairy Tale AUs [1]
Category: Anastasia (1997), Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Anastasia (1997 & Broadway) Fusion, Daydreaming, Dreams and Nightmares, Enemies to Lovers, Evil Plans, Falling In Love, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Lies, Love/Hate, M/M, Major Character Injury, Manipulation, Past Character Death, Personal Growth, Royalty, Teasing, Temporary Amnesia, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, back stabbing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29818143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megaanimeweeb/pseuds/megaanimeweeb
Summary: “You think I’m the lost prince?” Heterochromatic eyes pierce the green ones hidden behind a porcelain mask in disbelief.“I mean you look just like him, the painting says it all.” There’s a pause in his words, but he eventually continues. “But, I mean if you’re not him, I unfortunately can’t take you where you want.” With a small smirk, Dream pivots and very slowly, walks away from the boy, making it clear to his companion to follow in small steps beside him. He knows exactly what he’s doing.The older boy eyes the painting, noticing the similarities. With a light finger, he traces the features of the young boy made with fine precision. “Okay, I wi-“ Once he turns back around, he sees nothing but the air they left and old carpet littered with soft footprints. “I am! I am the prince, I promise.” George yells, his eyes wide as he races to the staircase, mentally cursing at himself for lying so horribly. His eyes flick between the two males that managed to make it to the bottom of the stairs, desperation making itself clear.”Wonderful.”-an Anastasia AU where George is the lost prince and Dream with his buddy Skeppy are just trying to make money.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch, Zak Ahmed & Clay | Dream, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Series: Dream SMP Fairy Tale AUs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2208882





	Once Upon a December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prologue before the actual story begins!]
> 
> A lovely evening was turned tragic when a traitor of the Kingdom of Nietgevonden curses the family to be slaughtered by their people. The kingdoms most trusted ally and closest friend is now in charge of getting their son to safety.
> 
> or the beginning of the movie Anastasia 
> 
> (The narrated parts are Phil) (Nietgevonden is Dutch for NotFound)

Let me tell you a story, one to remember.

This story is about a young prince who lost everything in one night.

I would know, for I was there with him, the night his life came crashing down.

_The ballroom was radiant, the newly cleaned marble gleamed as the bright chandeliers reflected off of them. Men and women alike danced gracefully across the floors, swaying and twirling with their dancing partners. An orchestra played elegantly, enchanting its listeners._

_”Tell me, what do you plan on doing once we leave?” A kind voice spoke words of softness to a much younger boy. The two were sat on thrones, far above the dancers._

_”Only time will tell Phil, but I will miss your company.” The teen spoke, his light, melancholy words spilling out through a fond gaze._

_”George, we have a gift we’d like to give you, Wil and I.” Phil placed his hand atop the teen’s, giving it a small squeeze. The blond summoned over his oldest son who held the trinket like it was fragile glass. There was a flash of white in the corner of the young prince’s eyes, his eyes trying to catch up with the fleeting figure. Alas he had no time to investigate as he was handed a small ornament, it was circular and blue with a gold trim._

_”What is it Phil?” The prince eyed the object with curiosity, searching for any sign of what it could be. George was no kid by any means, at least that’s what he tells himself. At the ripe old age of 13, he didn’t have time for normalities such as toys._

_”Remember when you were just a bit younger? You’d get frightened by everything and the only way we could calm you down was by Wil singing to you.” Phil’s oldest son grinned from ear to ear, proudly puffing out his chest. “It’s a music box.” The oldest man fiddled with the box for a second, a short cog looking piece making itself loose. With careful hands, Phil twisted the key, opening the box. Two tiny statues popped up, dancing in a circle. It emitted a sweet melody, one which the young prince knew very well. “Whenever you miss us, all you have to do is twist the cog.” The foreign King smiled gently, placing the cog around the young prince’s neck. Something George had failed to notice was the thin gold chain attached to the key, that was before it sat comfortably on his collar bone._

_The teen hummed to the tune, a reminiscent look crossing over his features. “Once upon a December.” George uttered beneath his breath, the sound of guests flowing around the dance floor, and the orchestra, drown out his poor attempt at singing._

‘Someone holds me safe and warm

Horses prance through a silver storm

Figures dancing gracefully across my memory’

_SLAM. The doors were thrown open, the night sky now filled with weeping clouds. In a frenzied panic, everyone huddled to the sides, saying their last goodbyes and ‘I love yous’ in the case of tragedy. George hid behind Phil and Wilbur, cowering in fear._

Some say history’s events only happened because of a trade. 

A trade of one's soul for power.

_”Well if it isn’t King Nietgevonden.” A hooded man announced, hand tightening against a glowing red vile. A much shorter man stood strong next to him, a smug smirk flashing across his face._

_”You dare speak to me, Schlatt!? I banished you from setting foot on these grounds.” The King spoke, venom coursing through his words. Guests began backing away from two further, a few couples making their exit before eventual disaster._

_A wicked grin crossed the man’s face, showing his horribly unkempt teeth. “Now now,” With swift hands, Schlatt tucked the hood behind his head, unveiling his features. “Don’t get too aggressive, I haven’t even said the bad parts.” His smile was_ nauseating.

_”Bad part?” The King was breathless, worry and fret dripping into his veins like the sweat pooling on his forehead._

_”You, King George Nietgevonden the 2nd and the rest of the Nietgevondens, are cursed. You and your family will perish and the hands of your own people!” There was a wicked laugh that rang throughout everyone’s ears, echoing in the motionless ballroom._

Jschlatt kept to his promise.

That night the castle was attacked by angry townspeople with pitchforks and torches. Brainwashed and raging civilians pursued the family, fulfilling Schlatt’s deepest desires.

_“George, mate, come on!” Phil ushered the teenager up and out of bed. George was dazed with confusion and sleep but obliged. Angry shouts could be heard from the halls. Soon Wilbur accompanied them._

_”I’ll hold them off Dad, you find an exit.” Prince Wilbur whispered to Phil, stoic. “I love you, Father.” The once intense and gut wrenching moment turned soft and heartbreaking. Phil nodded, a look of grievance as he grabbed the young prince’s wrist, pulling him towards the east wing._

_The room was small, few items were thrown across the room in a decorating panic. George fondly remembers his mother stubbornly changing everything until it was perfect for guests. Now was not the time for memories. A small wall opened, a younger boy stepping out and hurrying the two to follow after him._

_”Come with me, there’s an exit this way but we don’t have much time.” The boy was younger and shorter than George, light blond hair was short and messy. A mask covered his face with a poorly drawn smile etched into it. As the young prince followed, he heard a thud, the music box had fallen out of his pocket._

_”My music box!” George shrieked, trying to resist the older’s grasp. The masked boy understood and reached for it, trying to aid in the survival of his prince. Alas, intruders made their way through and Phil pulled the young boy through the port, never to be seen by the youngest. Instead the blond was kicked and beaten into unconsciousness, the gift laying tauntingly at his side._

The train station was packed that night, that is the only explanation I can give you for what happened. I still regret everything about it, that sorrowful, horrid, night.

_The ground was covered in snow and ice, the darkness only proving to get worse as large snowflakes fell from the mourning sky. The two royals rushed over the frozen lake. They were getting closer and closer to the train station._

_”Phil my legs are getting tired, I don’t know if I can keep going.” George whined through shallow breaths and thuds of feet against the packed ice. The teen felt something grab his leg and pull him down._

_”Then sit down!” A familiar voice cackled, tightly gripping the young prince’s leg. “I won’t rest until every last Nietgevonden is dead, and you sweetheart, are the last one.” Schlatt continued to pull him closer and closer with every scream until- CRACK. The ice was breaking beneath the two, catching the betrayer off guard, loosening his grip on the prince. George quickly wiggled out from Schlatt’s grasp, Phil opting to pick him up to save time. The ice was breaking quickly, eventually it swallowed Schlatt whole._

_”We’re safe for now mate.” Phil placed George back down and began running once more, this time in a hurry for the train departure. The prince followed behind as quickly as he could. The wind brushed against their tormented skin. The air was both hot and cold with the rush of running and the cold of winter. Phil jumped onto the train, a few passengers helping him up onto the moving vehicle. George wasn’t as lucky. He gripped Phil’s hand in panic, trying to throw himself onto the bars of the train. Eventually his legs got tired and the train got too fast, forcing him out of the older’s grasp and falling harshly onto the snow, hitting the floor and knocking him out._

I cried out George’s name that night, desperately hoping he’d get up and start running toward me. Alas that didn’t happen and I was left all alone on a crowded train, never seeing my god son again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope in some ways I have improved from my last fics. I appreciate all of you, stay healthy and safe!


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